Grasping
by purseplayer
Summary: Blaine is an ordinary sub waiting endlessly in a lineup, until the day Kurt shows up to take him home.
1. Chapter 1

_Saturday - Lofty_

It wasn't the man's striking eyes that caught Blaine's attention, nor the perfect coif of his hair, nor his confident, lofty stride. It was something so innocuous as his jawline. Blaine wanted to trace it with his tongue, smooth down the arc of his neck and wet the dip of his collarbone. Mapping. Tasting.

Blaine wanted to prostrate himself at this man's feet, remove his fancy designer shoes so carefully and lick the lines between his toes; peel the material from his sculpted legs and worship the miles of them until he reached the jut of his hipbone, traveled to the places in between.

He shouldn't be staring. He shouldn't even have looked. Blaine fixed his posture, settling into the practiced pose of the lineup like it was his second skin. It wasn't enough to be as good as the sub next to him. Blaine had to be better.

Blaine always wanted to be better for Him.

The man was coming closer now; Blaine's eyes followed his careful, heavy footsteps. Large feet. They were something of a contradiction to the lean lines of the man's body, to his almost delicate features.

They only made Blaine want Him more. He had never wanted so badly to be chosen, to be worthy.

The feet stopped right in front of him, and Blaine wanted to stop breathing, wanted to inhale so deeply he would tremble with it, ruin his careful presentation, fall apart so utterly and helplessly that this man would see him and be drawn to his need and they could fit so right together, if only Blaine had a way to let him know….

Long fingers, sliding gracefully through his curls and curving there, grasping—just enough to feel the pull.

Blaine imagined how He would pull tighter, bend Blaine's head back too far, and Blaine's mouth would fall open and the man's cock would push inside; heavy, so heavy, filling him up until every second was a struggle not to choke, and there would be no space for thought or expectation or performance and Blaine could just be there, just be; he would show Him. He would take it so well.

"Look at me."

Blaine's head shot up, his eyes lifting, and the world was blue. The world was beautiful, and it was smiling at him. It was smiling at him like Blaine was beautiful, too.

The man looked away from him towards Sir, who was waiting patiently just beyond. "I want this one," He said with surety, then turned just as quickly back to Blaine. His free hand trailed lightly across Blaine's throat, and Blaine knew—he knew—the man was picturing a collar there. "How would you like to be mine, sweetheart?"

Blaine couldn't speak; he nodded.

Didn't He know that Blaine already was?


	2. Chapter 2

_Saturday - Pulse_

Blaine. His name was Blaine. Kurt knew he had a last name once—they all had—but he wouldn't ever again. Not unless Kurt gave him his.

When they arrived home Blaine was shivering, his olive skin drawn and pebbled even though Kurt knew it wasn't cold. He looked so beautiful, even partially covered in the nondescript black yoga pants Kurt had offered him, and it took all of Kurt's willpower not to reach out and touch.

The moment they stepped through the door Blaine was on his knees.

"You don't need to do that," Kurt told him kindly, "not unless I've instructed you otherwise."

Blaine nodded, betraying no shock at the leniency if he felt any, and climbed back to his feet.

"Would you like something to eat?"

This time Blaine's eyes widened almost imperceptivity; it was gone in an instant. "Yes, Sir," he answered, keeping his head partially bowed.

"Blaine, look at me," Kurt commanded, smiling when he finally did so. "There, that's better. I want to see those gorgeous eyes."

Blaine flushed, shivered again, and this time Kurt gave in to instinct, reaching to trace his jawline, smoothing up his face to brush his thumb sweetly over one delicate eyelid. "You called him Sir? Magellan?"

"Yes," Blaine affirmed, "and every other superior."

"You'll call me Master."

Blaine's lips parted when Kurt touched them; Kurt could feel his soft inhale at the word. "Yes, Master," Blaine responded obediently. This time there was something else there, a hint of something deeper in his inflection, and Kurt wanted to play with it, learn to draw out his deepest passions…

He moved away. "Andrew!" he called, surprised the man hadn't appeared the moment they arrived. But then he _had_ known where Kurt was going.

He showed up seconds later, gawking openly at Blaine until one firm look from Kurt swayed his attention. "Is dinner ready? Blaine and I are hungry."

Andrew nodded. "Yes, Sir."

"Good. We'll have it in five minutes in the kitchen, then."

"Of course, Sir."

"Thank you." Once Andrew was gone he turned again to Blaine. "Please, follow me. I hope you like roast."

In the kitchen Blaine tried to kneel again, then halted halfway through, and Kurt laughed at him and gestured to a chair. When Blaine sat he looked awkward, as though it was something he hadn't done in quite some time, and Kurt reached out to him, placed a comforting hand on his arm. "You can be at ease here," he told him, not at all sure his words would make any difference. "Just enjoy the meal. We can talk after dinner."

Blaine nodded, gratitude written in his eyes.

The meal passed in silence, and once they were both finished Kurt led Blaine to the living room, settling into his favorite easy chair with a glass of his favorite wine. He looked into Blaine's eyes—not an easy thing to manage, but he hoped that would change in time.

"Kneel for me," he said firmly.

Blaine's knees hit the soft carpet before he'd finished speaking, his head bowing again—probably on instinct. Kurt let it be this time, did what he had been aching to repeat since the moment his heart chose Blaine, carved this man deep into his flesh; he thread one hand through Blaine's dark curls and tightened it there, just a little more pressure than this morning, and Blaine… Blaine relaxed. Kurt could almost see the tension draining from his body, though his muscles barely moved.

"Good, Blaine," Kurt praised, knowing well that Blaine hadn't actually done anything, but wanting to reward him anyway. "We need to talk about some things. A lot of things, actually. Set some ground rules. But first, can you tell me… do you want this? Do you want to be here with me? Please, answer verbally. You can speak freely if I ask you a question."

"Yes. God, yes."

Kurt's hand clenched harder for a few moments, a reward for the answer he most wanted to hear, for Blaine showing some emotion in giving it. Blaine hissed in response, his eyes going blank and then quickly coming back again.

"And do you want our relationship to be sexual?"

Blaine hesitated, shifting the slightest bit. "If that's… if that's what pleases you, Sir."

Kurt abandoned Blaine's hair, traveling down to lift his chin until they were once more eye-to-eye. "Master," he corrected.

"Sorry, Master."

Kurt sighed. "Blaine, I really need you to be honest with me. Always. I know it's hard for you to believe, but I promise that you'll find no judgment here. You're safe with me."

Blaine swallowed thickly. "Thank you, Master."

"Of course." Kurt trailed his fingers down Blaine's arched throat, across his Adam's apple and over, pressing there.

Blaine's pulse pounded just faster than what Kurt knew to be normal. He wondered if he was nervous, or scared, or…

"If you lie to me, I'll feel it," he informed Blaine. "Relax, sweetheart. And tell me… do you want a sexual relationship with me?"

Bu-bump, bu-bump, bu-bump. Blaine's heartbeat quickened, but Kurt was almost certain it had nothing to do with dishonesty.

"I… I've never wanted that from anyone who came there, but then I saw you and…"

"Go on," Kurt encouraged.

"I… I felt drawn to you, somehow. Like I had to have you pick me. I've never wanted anyone so badly in my life."

"Good," Kurt said. "That's good, sweetheart." Slowly, Kurt moved to his own knees, squeezing between Blaine and the chair, fisting Blaine's hair with both hands and pulling him close, brushing their lips ever-so-lightly together when he was really dying to crash them. God, he wanted to topple Blaine over and bite into his mouth and lick over every inch of his neck, stubble and sweat and his tell-tale pulse, expose those perfect hips again, Blaine's heavy cock, grind into him until he wrecked Blaine's skin…

Patience.

He drew back, climbing back into his seat, pleased to see that Blaine's eyes were glazed over now and he looked hungry, nearly as hungry as Kurt felt.

"Has anyone had you?" He had to ask.

Blaine bowed his head, but the movement was different now, shameful. "Yes."

"Magellan claims to only offer virgins."

"It was before," Blaine explained. "He… he didn't know."

"It's okay, Blaine," Kurt assured him, tenderly cupping his face until Blaine lifted his head again. "I'm glad you were honest with me."

"It was just the one boy. We were—" Kurt cut him off with a finger pressed to his lips.

"Tell me later. But you're mine now, yes?"

Blaine groaned almost indistinguishably. "Please. Yes."

"I'm going to take care of you, Blaine. I'm going to possess you so thoroughly there will be no room for anyone else. You're going to devote yourself to me, do you understand? Is that what you want?"

This time, Blaine met his eyes of his own accord. "Yes. Master."

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut at the title, at the way Blaine was looking at him, so earnestly and yes, Kurt could open this man up, it would be sweet and easy and the deepest pleasure. It took all of his willpower to stand, step back. He studied Blaine as closely as he had earlier that day, devouring every inch of his beautifully sculpted figure. He probably should have offered Blaine more clothes an hour ago, but it was warm enough in his home, and Kurt was selfish.

"One week," he announced finally. "I want to get to know you, Blaine. I want you to know me. One week and then I'll…" his voice quivered at the mere thought, and he couldn't even bring himself to care "… then I'll take you."

Blaine was watching him with wide eyes, posture still flawless, but he seemed timid, unsure. Kurt was about to ask why when Blaine spoke first.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course. You can always ask me anything."

"Andrew, is he? That is—"

"Oh, no!" Kurt cut him off. "God, no, Blaine. Andrew is a service sub. He was a gift from my father when I turned eighteen, but it's never been—" he paused, considering his next words.

"And what am I?" Blaine asked suddenly, a surprising hint of mischief dancing in his gaze. "What kind of sub am I to be?"

Kurt growled and went to him, grasped his curls the hardest yet and yanked his head back sharply until Blaine was forced to stare up at him. "You're my sub. You're mine."

Kisses didn't count, Kurt decided, and he bent painfully over to capture Blaine's lips with his own.


	3. Chapter 3

_Sunday_

Blaine woke slowly, a smile growing on his face as he burrowed into the pile of soft blankets layered under him, content to lie there and bask for a moment longer so long as it was permitted. Eventually he blinked and stirred, unfurling and stretching his limbs easily within the confines of the roomy cage. He sat up, his eyes seeking and finding the sleeping form of his Master.

Kurt had kicked his blankets off at some point during the night, which didn't surprise Blaine given the comfortable temperature of the room. He lay sprawled out on the large bed, half on his side and half on his stomach, his night shirt ridden up to expose a tempting expanse of pale, creamy skin. Blaine could only see the barest hint of his face—the outline his jaw, softened in sleep, pink lips barely parted to allow even puffs of breaths in and out, a tiny peek of the jut of his nose. He sighed happily, already half in love, and arranged himself sitting back on his haunches to watch and wait until Kurt woke up.

It took about thirty minutes from Blaine's estimation; he couldn't see the clock on the nightstand from his cage. It began with the most welcome sight of Kurt rutting into the mattress, slowly at first then picking of speed. Blaine watched his every movement with open interest. Maybe when Kurt woke up he could convince Him to let Blaine—

Kurt moaned and turned, the erection tenting his pajama bottoms preventing Blaine from getting a good look at his face. When He sat up He was rubbing at his eyes, then finally uncovered them to meet Blaine's own. His face cracked into a wide smile, and He quickly glanced down and back up again and _blushed_, much to Blaine's surprise. He recovered quickly, crawling to the edge of the bed and reaching one hand into Blaine's cage to pet at his face.

"Good morning, gorgeous," He offered, and Blaine nuzzled into the touch.

"Good morning. Master I could…" he straightened, awkwardly gesturing at Kurt's crotch, but Kurt shook his head.

"Thank you, but not this morning, sweetheart. We still have a lot to talk about before anything like that happens."

"Yes, Master," Blaine said obediently, keeping his groan of frustration internal. In all honesty, Kurt was right—Blaine didn't know if he was ready for that. Wanting it and knowing how to do it were two very different things.

"Such a good boy," Kurt said, almost dreamily. "How about I let you out of there now, and we go get some breakfast?"

Blaine nodded eagerly as the cage door sprung open with a careful twist of Kurt's fingers, and it was all he could do to keep himself from launching into his Master's arms.

* * *

Blaine stabbed another forkful of eggs as Kurt poured cream into his coffee, trying hard not to laugh when He almost spilled it. Kurt was rather clumsy for a Dom.

"So sweetheart, we never did get around to discussing those rules last night. I'm afraid you distracted me."

Blaine felt his face flush and tried not to beam too brightly. "Sorry," he offered half-heartily.

Kurt's hand crept across the table to trace at the sensitive skin of his inner arm. "I assure you, it was quite alright. But it is imperative that you know the rules, at least the general ones for now."

Blaine nodded, chewing at the corner of his toast and waiting patiently.

"First, as you may have discerned, I don't require that you kneel while at home. In fact, I prefer that you don't. I tend to lose myself in my thoughts at times, and I wouldn't want to get clumsy and trip over you and—"

Blaine tried and failed to stifle a snort of laughter.

"What?" Kurt said, clearly perplexed.

Blaine merely shook his head, and Kurt continued.

"But if I ask you to kneel—or anything else, for that matter—I expect you to obey. Immediately, Blaine."

"Yes, Master."

"So that's rule number one: obedience. Rule number two is about your responsibilities. I expect you to maintain personal hygiene—for now, at whatever level they required at the training center—on a daily basis. You're also to report to Andrew for a list of daily and weekly chores, which I expect to be completed by the time I return home from work each day. That's usually around six o'clock. If you find anything on the list disagreeable, you're welcome to discuss it with me."

Blaine nodded. "Thank you, Master."

Kurt's face softened. "I want you to be happy here, Blaine."

Blaine wasn't sure what to say to that, so he swallowed the lump of emotion in his throat and nodded again, grateful.

"Rule number three," Kurt said after clearing his throat. "You're welcome to anything in the house—food, books, the television—but I ask that you stay off of my computer without prior permission. The internet can be a dangerous place, and until I know how much exposure you've had to it, I don't want you stumbling into something that may be difficult for you to handle. When I'm home, you may use the desktop if you ask. My laptop is for work purposes and is off limits to you completely."

Blaine bowed his head in acknowledgement. "Master, if I may—"

For a moment, Kurt looked confused. "I haven't set any rule about needing permission to speak, Blaine," He said with a quirk of his mouth. "And I'm not going to, except perhaps during sex."

Blaine felt his face heat at the word, but he recovered quickly, forcing himself to meet his Master's eyes. "I was wondering what it is you do. For work, I mean."

Kurt's smile broadened. "Of course; I should have mentioned earlier. I work for the government, investigating reports of sub abuse. I also have a small clothing business on the side, mostly stuff I do on weekends."

"Wow," Blaine said. "I guess you're a pretty important guy then."

Kurt chuckled, but the sound tapered off as He studied Blaine's face. "If you're thinking I'm too important to have chosen you, Blaine, you can think again. I knew you were special the moment I laid eyes on you."

"Really?" Blaine asked, purposely lowering his head a bit, considering Kurt demurely through his lashes. Inexperienced as he was, he did know _some _tricks to pull a Dom's heartstrings.

Kurt rose from the table silently, traveling swiftly to Blaine's side and moving to kneel beside Blaine's chair. Blaine gasped at the gesture but stopped when Kurt's hand lifted to twine tightly through his curls, manipulating the angle of his head until he was forced to stare directly into his Master's eyes.

"Really," He said firmly. "Blaine, my heart, my soul, my body… everything I am was drawn to you the instant I saw you. I had to have you. I've never felt anything like it before in my life. If that man—the one you called Sir?—if he had tried to stop me, I probably would have found a way to kidnap you. That's how special you are. That's how desperate I am to make this work, to have you in my life."

Tears welled up in Blaine's eyes, his mouth opening to respond, to concur and declare his own feelings, but Kurt's voice cut him off.

"Rule number four. _Never_ doubt the way I feel for you, my desire for you. Blaine…"

Kurt looked as lost to his emotions as Blaine felt, and it was startling to see such vulnerability in the face of a Dom. Before Blaine realized what was happening Kurt was yanking him forward, taking his mouth in the most passionate kiss they'd shared yet. Blaine moaned into it, helpless, as Kurt's grasp on his hair tightened.

Just as quickly he was released, and Kurt was on his feet again, returning to his breakfast. Blaine inhaled sharply. What did he do to deserve a Dom as incredible as Him?

"Rule number five," Kurt said, after quietly taking a sip from his coffee, "don't go outside. Unless you're with me, of course. The back yard is fenced in, and that's an exception. Rule number six is that you are _always_ to be respectful to others—Dom or sub or otherwise—but you take orders only from me."

Kurt picked up his toast and took a bite, chewing slowly as Blaine watched and waited patiently. After several seconds had passed, he began to grow confused. "What's rule number seven?" he finally asked.

Kurt smiled at him wryly. "There isn't one," He answered. "Yet."

"But… how are there only six rules?"

"There were only five," Kurt gestured to Blaine with his toast, "until your silly insecurities necessitated another one. Finish your breakfast, Blaine."

Blaine opened his mouth to protest and then thought better of it as he reminded himself, _rule number one: obedience_, which was something he should do automatically anyways. He turned his attention back to his food, periodically glancing at Kurt as He finished his own breakfast. Kurt was a slow eater, it turned out, and Blaine finished first, sitting quietly until his Master's plate was empty.

"Now," Kurt declared, wiping his hands on a napkin and sitting back in his chair. "We have the matter of punishment. I suppose you've been punished before."

Blaine felt himself blushing yet again and quickly bowed his head. "Yes, Master. A few times."

It felt as though Kurt's eyes might bore through Blaine's skull. "Tell me about that," He ordered.

Blaine swallowed. "They were, umm… they were very strict at the center. I got whipped twice—once for talking back instead of following an order, and once because my bed wasn't made neatly enough. One time I got caught stealing an extra roll at breakfast, and they clipped my tongue so I couldn't… so it was difficult to eat, for a few days. I was locked in a closet for the day once too, for interfering with another sub's punishment. I think—I think that's it."

Kurt frowned deeply, and Blaine frantically wondered what He could be thinking. Surely He wouldn't send Blaine back, now that He knew what a terrible sub he'd been in the past?

Eventually Kurt tutted, shaking his head adamantly. "Unfortunately none of that's illegal, but…" He trailed off, seemingly speaking more to Himself. "I won't use any of those methods here. To begin with, if you break one of the rules we just went over it will be corner time or a spanking, depending on my judgment of the infraction. I may add other punishments as I see fit at a later time, with your prior consent. Is that acceptable?"

Blaine's mouth fell open, yet again dumbfounded by Kurt's respect and kindness, but he managed to nod.

"Close your mouth, Blaine; it's unattractive." Kurt's tone was teasing, but Blaine obeyed immediately.

"One more thing," Kurt continued, holding Blaine's gaze with a much more sober expression. "This isn't exactly a general living rule, but I think I want this much from you now: no coming without permission. Naturally." Kurt smiled and stood, calling for Andrew to clear their plates, then turned back to Blaine with his hand outstretched.

"You keep blushing like that and I'm going to have too much fun with you, sweetheart. Come on now. It's Sunday, so I thought we could spend some time just being together, getting used to each other. Starting with a movie?"

His last sentence was phrased as a question, so Blaine nodded again, smiling to himself at how lucky he was. He never knew he could be this happy; nothing he'd learned in the training center ever led him to believe there were Doms in the world like _this_. His designation as a sub had once felt like a prison sentence, but now it was beginning to feel like the greatest gift in the world.

He straightened his shoulders and stood, slipping his hand into Kurt's, enjoying the way his Dom's fingers squeezed his immediately, the way his hand felt so large and soft and steady in Blaine's own. Gathering his courage, he leaned up slightly to whisper something provocative into Kurt's ear, enjoying the way Kurt himself flushed and giggled in response, and together they made their way through Blaine's new home and into the living room, content to have the rest of the day for only each other.


	4. Chapter 4

_Monday_

Kurt startled awake at the blare of his alarm, hastily switching it off and checking to make sure it hadn't woken Blaine. He stretched his arms out, smiling at the sight of his sub curled up in a ball, his legs tangled in his mass of blankets, still fast asleep. He didn't understand how Blaine appeared so comfortable when, despite Kurt's best attempts to make the cage homier, he was essentially sleeping on the floor.

Kurt yawned and stumbled to his feet. He didn't want to wake Blaine when he was sleeping so peacefully, but he really wanted to see the boy before he left for work. Even more, he didn't want Blaine to wake up and think he couldn't leave his cage without Kurt letting him out—even though he'd instructed the sub on how to open the cage from the inside and made certain Blaine knew that he was free to do so upon the boy's insistence that he preferred to sleep there.

Kurt sighed, deciding to compromise and leave Blaine a note.

Truth be told, he'd always hated the idea of cages. Kurt couldn't help but see them as cold and cruel and degrading, and he couldn't understand why any Dom would prefer to lock their sub in one at night when they could have them warm and pliant and cuddled up with them in bed. In spite of this, however, he had to admit that he'd known several subs over the years who had sworn up and down that they loved to sleep in a cage, that it made them feel safe and secure and cared for.

When he'd informed his father of his intentions to finally purchase a sub, the man had convinced him that it was best he buy one, pointing out that any sub from the center would be used to it and probably be more comfortable sleeping there than with him throughout the first days and weeks of their relationship. He'd eventually—begrudgingly—given in, selecting the largest cage he could find and arguing with the company he'd bought it from until they agreed to fix it to open from the inside. He couldn't live with the knowledge that he'd _trapped_ someone. What if they had a nightmare, and he didn't notice and they were panicking and wanted out? What if, God forbid, there was a _fire_?

He grabbed a pad of paper and a pen from the desk across the room, hastily scribbling a note.

_Sweetheart,_

_You looked so peaceful sleeping there that I didn't want to wake you, but I need to get ready for work so I wanted to remind you—PLEASE let yourself out when you wake up!_

He hesitated, then added:

_If I'm still in the shower, you're more than welcome to join me ;-)_

_3 Kurt_

He folded the note quickly and dropped it through the bars of the cage, watching as it fluttered down to rest near Blaine's nose. _At least this cage_ _is more comfortable than the ones they had at the center_, he told himself in reassurance, shuddering at the memory of rows upon rows of tiny grey boxes, eerily similar to the cells of a prison only smaller.

He shook it off and grabbed his robe, heading into the adjoining bathroom for his shower.

* * *

As the warm water beat down soothingly onto his back, Kurt turned his thoughts to happier things. Like Blaine. And the way Blaine smiled at him. And Blaine's voice when he called Kurt _Master_. The way submission shined in the boy's eyes, seemed to settle almost visibly into his entire body; the way he cried out so openly and sweetly every time Kurt surprised him with a kiss.

It wasn't that Kurt had been unhappy with his life before Blaine, but these past two days had been a new and unexpected sort of heaven. He knew it wouldn't always be so easy or so pleasant, but for now he was content to bask in how amazing Blaine was, how stupid he had been to let work consume him for so many years, to let his anxiety about opening his life up to another person get the better of him. Blaine could never be a burden. Blaine was sunshine, and Blaine was _his_.

Warm arms snaked around his torso, a face pressing into the back of his neck. "_Blaine_," Kurt said in a breath, turning to embrace the boy fully. It wasn't easy to hold him tight while simultaneously trying to keep their hips a respectable distance apart, but Kurt managed it. "You actually came!"

Blaine flushed, pulling back. "You did say in the note…"

Kurt chuckled. He couldn't help but notice—and appreciate—the careful, bashful way Blaine averted his eyes from his Dom's lower body. "I did, and I meant it. You're always welcome wherever I am. But I'm almost finished here, sweetheart. Why don't you condition my hair for me, and then you can get yourself washed up while I make breakfast? Andrew always has Monday mornings for himself."

It helped Kurt switch over to a more focused, disciplined mindset when he did things for himself at the start of the work week, as strange as it may seem to others.

"Yeah," Blaine said, a pleased smile on his face. "Yeah, I can do that. Which bottle…?"

"Here," Kurt said, grabbing the one he wanted and handing it to the boy. "Are you sure you can reach?" he teased.

Blaine scoffed, pouring a dime-sized amount of conditioner into his palm. "I'm sure I can manage."

Kurt smiled to himself at the boy's use of sarcasm. Not only was his sub flawlessly obedient, but he knew how to take Kurt's crap with a sense of humor, too.

It was official. Blaine was absolutely, positively, one-hundred-percent perfect.

* * *

Kurt was exhausted by the time he arrived home after a seemingly endless day at the office. He was surprised and pleased to find Blaine in the kitchen, pulling some sort of casserole out of the oven. Sniffing the air, he approached him from behind, twining his arms around the sub and kissing his neck.

"Kurt!" Blaine exclaimed, startling and dropping the hot pan the rest of the quarter-inch onto the top of the stove. Kurt winced as it made contact, exhaled slowly when the stovetop didn't crack. What was he thinking, sneaking up on Blaine like that? He was lucky he hadn't caused his sub to burn himself!

"I'm so sorry, Blaine. I didn't mean to scare you."

"That's alright," Blaine said earnestly. "No harm, no foul, right? I'm just glad that you're home. Just in time, too."

"Is that lasagna?" Kurt asked, reaching to dip his fingers into the dish only to have Blaine smack his hand away. "I don't recall cooking being one of the chores I asked Andrew to assign you."

"He didn't," Blaine answered, moving the lasagna carefully to a cooling rack on the counter. "It's my grandma's recipe. I asked him to let me handle dinner because I hoped… well, I _hope _you'll like it. I wanted to surprise you." Blaine looked at him for the first time since Kurt had arrived, a slight tinge appearing on his cheeks as he spoke. Such a stark contrast from his sass only moments before! Kurt couldn't help it; he pulled the boy close to his body for a deep, lengthy kiss, allowing his tongue to explore the ridges of Blaine's mouth, his teeth to nibble on the sub's bottom lip until he whined, his hips stuttering instinctively against Kurt's.

"I'm sure I'll love it," Kurt said, pulling back and resting their foreheads together while they both caught their breath. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I… I just need to toss the salad together. It shouldn't be too long. I was hoping it would be ready by the time you got home; I don't even have the table set yet I'm such a—I'm terrible when it comes to time management and I'm sorry—"

Kurt put a finger to the sub's lips, halting his words abruptly. "I'll set the table; you finish up the salad. And stop worrying! It's cute, but I imagine the charm will only last for so long."

The color in Blaine's face deepened. "I'm sorry, Master, I'll—"

"Stop," Kurt said again, more firmly this time. "Everything will be perfect, Blaine."

To his relief, Blaine nodded and headed for the fridge, Kurt staring wistfully after him. He hoped the boy didn't hear his whispered addition of _"just like you_."

* * *

After dinner they curled up together on the couch, Blaine's head nestled in Kurt's lap, Kurt's fingers absentmindedly playing with his hair. "Dinner was truly delicious," Kurt reiterated, trying to find a segue into the conversation he wanted them to have. "I may have to send your grandmother a thank-you card."

To his surprise, Blaine tensed in his arms. "Sweetheart?" Kurt said, concerned. "Is something wrong?"

"My grandmother's dead, Kurt. She died while I was in training."

Kurt's hand tightened instinctively in Blaine's curls. "I'm so sorry, baby."

Blaine turned his face into Kurt's thigh, clearly struggling to speak. "It was… they wouldn't let me leave. Wouldn't let me say goodbye."

"That's terrible," Kurt said, making a mental note to check up on the center's policy. That was a clear violation of sub rights. "Were you two close?"

Slowly, Blaine nodded. "She was—she was probably the one I was closest to. Of my whole family."

"Would you tell me a little bit about her?"

Blaine was silent for a few moments, but then to Kurt's immense relief he continued. "She was a sub, the only member of my family with a designation. Well, my grandfather was a Dom, obviously, but he died before I was born. She was too old by then for them to put her back in the system, so my parents took her in, gave her the guest house to live in. I spent every free moment with her I could growing up, and then after I was sent away to Dalton, every summer…"

"It sounds like she was a very special lady," Kurt said quietly.

Blaine nodded again. "The best. I… I miss her every day. I just wish I could have said goodbye. I got to see her before they took me away to the training center, but…"

"Maybe I could take you to visit her grave sometime? If you'd like?"

"I would," Blaine said, "but I don't even know where she's buried."

"Surely your parents—"

"Want nothing to do with me," Blaine insisted firmly. "And I want nothing to do with them!" For a moment he fell quiet, then "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have interrupted you like that."

"It's okay, Blaine," Kurt said, finding the boy's hand and squeezing it. "Would you… do you want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly," Blaine muttered.

Kurt sighed. "This isn't an order," he said hesitantly. "But I really think you should tell me, Blaine. It might help, and as your Dom I should know if something is… if something is sensitive for you."

Blaine took a deep breath, his grip tightening on Kurt's fingers. "We were upper class, you know? My parents always cared about appearances, but they were really good to me. Loved me. My biggest problem growing up was my asshole older brother," he laughed dryly, then continued. "But then when I was thirteen I realized I was gay, and I… I mean, it's not that it was easy, coming out, but I never thought that they would—that they wouldn't accept me. They loved me so much it just never occurred to me."

"I'm so sorry," Kurt whispered, stroking through his sub's curls in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

"It's not… it's not like they did anything awful. But things became strained, almost like they wanted to avoid me. And then when dad insisted that I be sent to Dalton because of 'better academics' and 'a more disciplined environment', I knew it was just an excuse to not have to deal with me every day. It was like they didn't know how to be around me anymore, and they didn't even bother to try."

"And your brother?" Kurt prompted.

Blaine shrugged. "He'd moved out by then. We never really got a chance to talk about it; I don't know what he'd think. But I do know how he'd feel about me being a sub. He taunted me about it all the time when I was little—even though he couldn't possibly have known then—any time I'd cry or do anything he considered _girly_. The only time he ever treated me with any decency was around grandma. I think he respected her, sub or no. She would have been so angry to hear the way he talked."

"And your parents? How did they feel about you being a sub?" Kurt was almost afraid to ask.

Blaine scoffed. "How do you think? They could have easily afforded to get me private tutelage, you know, or at least have me sent somewhere better than the center for training. There are even a few places that would have allowed me to continue my regular education, but—"

"Do you want to finish school?" Kurt interrupted, the thought never having occurred to him before.

"I…"

"Answer the question, Blaine."

"Yes. I, umm… I loved school. I miss it. And my friends," he added quietly, almost an afterthought.

"You can contact them if you like, Blaine. Or anyone else—you only need to ask. And I'll see what I can do about arranging for you to finish high school. You'll need something decent if you want to get into a good college."

"Really?" Blaine exclaimed, sitting up a little so that he could see his Dom's face. "That's too much, Kurt, you don't have to—"

"Of course I don't, but I want to. I want you to be happy with me. If that means going to college, or even getting a job. Surely there was something you wanted to do before?"

"I… I thought about being a teacher, maybe. Teaching music to little kids. When I was at Dalton I was lead singer of the Warblers."

Kurt felt his heart skip a beat at the flash of pure joy on Blaine's face. "That really makes sense for you; I can see it. You know now I'm going to make you sing for me some time…"

Blaine flushed, looking down towards their clasped hands. "I think I'd like to sing for you."

"Is there anything else you want to tell me, sweetie? Anything important in your life that we missed?"

Blaine looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook his head. "Nothing essential, really. I mean—the training center was fairly horrible, but I don't really feel like talking about that now. Can I maybe hear about your family?"

"Of course you can," Kurt answered, coaxing the boy to lie down once again, his cock twitching with interest when Blaine's skull brushed against it on accident. "That's only fair. But there's really not much to tell. Let's see… I guess the biggest thing is that my mother died when I was eight."

Now Blaine squeezed his hand. "I'm so sorry," he said sincerely, peering up at Kurt with his hazel eyes full of sympathy.

Kurt nodded. "It was hard, but I've had a long time to learn to live with it. And my Dad… my Dad is wonderful," Kurt smiled as he thought of the older man, unable to help it. "I was really scared to come out to him, because he's—you know the type. Really masculine, I guess: all baseball caps and flannel. He's a mechanic. But he took it in stride even though I know he didn't really understand it then, and he's been nothing but supportive of me ever since. Always, really. When we found out I was a Dom—Dad is one too—he insisted on paying to send me for special training rather than what was locally available. It meant that we spent a summer apart, but it was worth it in the long run. He had Carole—that's my stepmom—and my stepbrother, Finn, around by then too, so I suppose the distance wasn't so hard on his part."

"It sounds like he really loves you, though. I'm sure he missed you."

Kurt laughed and rolled his eyes. "So he said. I really can't wait for them to meet you."

"They sound wonderful. I'm glad you've had good people in your life."

"Yeah, well," Kurt thought about the bullying he'd been through before he'd received his designation, but decided quickly that was story that could wait to be told. "I think I've just been really, really lucky. I just wish you'd had the same, sweetheart. It kills me to think of you unhappy."

"I'm happy now," Blaine insisted. "It seems that my luck has recently changed for the better."

_I love you_, Kurt thought. _I don't know when or how, but I already love you_.

"How about we shoot for even better and get you set up on the computer so you can contact your friends? I'm sure they've been worried about you for the past year."

"Two. It's been almost two years. And thank you, Kurt." Blaine smiled, hoisting himself up to kiss Kurt softly, gratitude and affection shining in his eyes. When he moved to stand, Kurt caught him and wrapped the sub tightly in his arms, pleasure and contentment bubbling up in his chest and threatening to erupt.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **You all know this is a D/s fic, but I thought it safer to warn you that there will be a punishment in this chapter. Enjoy! :-)

* * *

_Tuesday_

Blaine heaved a heavy sigh, stupidly waving from the window until Kurt's car disappeared from sight. He knew it was selfish, but having Kurt all to himself for two whole days had him spoiled, and he dreaded the nine long hours stretching before him until his Master would be home with him again. He couldn't wait until the weekend rolled around. _For more reasons than one_, his treacherous mind supplied, and his cock twitched in sympathy.

Oh well. Until Kurt returned, he would simply have to put his all into completing his chores to the best of his ability, into making Him proud. Kurt had issued no complaints about his performance the day before, but Blaine was hoping for more than that today. Blaine wanted—no, _longed_ for—his Master's praise.

And so he carefully washed and dried, folded and hung Kurt's laundry as well as a few of the clothing items Kurt had gifted him, assuring each garment was free of even the tiniest wrinkle. He cleaned both the master and half bath until the fixtures shined—not a task he had ever performed before, but one he found surprisingly simple and pleasant. When that was done he put fresh linens on the bed, making sure that every corner was perfectly tucked and each pillow expertly fluffed. Finally, he headed outside to attend to his favorite chore, one he had begged Kurt to assign him when he'd first laid eyes on it: tending to the small garden in the backyard.

There was a small patch of vegetables to see to first, and Blaine was pleased to find a few tomatoes that were ripened to the fullest, some cucumbers that were rich green and speckled with dirt. He picked the choice crops and set them aside to give to Andrew for their dinner, quickly rid the soil of a couple weeds that had sprouted up, gave the veggies a little water and happily turned his attention to the flower garden. With these Blaine took his time, breathing deeply of the colorful blooms, carefully trimming away a few dead buds and reverently tracing the soft, delicate petals of the blossoming flowers with one finger. It was only when Andrew poked his head out the back door, wanting to know if Blaine would be joining him for lunch, that he clipped a few of the nicer roses to set about the house and reluctantly made his way inside.

Lunch was a rather pleasant affair of grilled cheese, Andrew's homemade tomato soup, and easy small talk. Blaine was quickly learning that Andrew was a kind man, if rather shy and reserved; he thought that given a little time they might become friends. He wanted badly to ask Kurt for more information about the older sub—how Kurt had come to own him, why Andrew seemed so content with life as a service sub when Blaine knew intimately the pull submissives felt to be dominated, wholeheartedly and yes, sexually—but something told him that it was better to wait it out, that there was a story there that might not be so easy to hear.

Blaine helped Andrew clean up and, finding himself with a free afternoon as his chores were all complete, tentatively asked the other man if he'd mind a little help with the evening's dessert. Andrew smiled knowingly when Blaine suggested a tiramisu cheesecake that his grandmother had taught him to make years back, producing the necessary ingredients without difficulty and leaving Blaine to it.

An hour and a half later, the cheesecake was chilling in the fridge, and Blaine had—he glanced at the clock—still another three and a half hours until Kurt could be expected home. Not sure what else to do with himself, he headed into the living room to watch a little TV.

A documentary on the history of Doms and subs held his attention for the next hour, but after that his mind began to wonder back over the past few days. It seemed remarkable to him that his life could be so different now than it was just last Friday, that Kurt was real, and more than that—so much more—He was _good_ to Blaine, good in a way Blaine had never dreamed he'd experience. An image of Kurt riding into the training center, bedecked like a prince and perched atop a gleaming white steed, appeared unbidden in his mind, and he giggled. Kurt as a prince was surprisingly fitting. Maybe Blaine could be cast as the poor, obedient servant boy who seduced Kurt away from his duties…

It was actively hard for Blaine _not _to seduce Kurt, not to tease and tempt. At the center, subs were given medication to curb their impulses, but after mere days without it Blaine's hormones were beginning to go crazy, his knees nearly aching to fold into a kneel, his ass twitching with the need to present, his cock half-hard more often than not, ready to service the pleasure of his Dom. Surely Kurt knew this? Surely He could instinctively sense Blaine's need, his own hormones urging Him to take and use what was his.

Only his Master's intent kept the desire at bay. _The end of the week_, Kurt had said. _"Then I'll take you_." Blaine's cock filled at the memory of those words, the command and certainty in his Dom's voice, the promise and tease of it. He closed his eyes and pictured it—his hands tied together and to the hook on Kurt's large, beautiful bed, his Master's hands spreading his thighs, licking him open and fucking into him mercilessly, a hoarse cry of _mine! _on his lips.

He clenched his ass muscles, hard, trying to satisfy the ache of emptiness there. He couldn't have that, not yet. Master said to wait. Blaine had to wait.

But he needed _something_.

His eyes flew open when the idea came to him, and hastily he switched off the TV, hurried into Kurt's office and shut the door.

He pressed a button, watched as the computer screen lit up, typed in the password Kurt had used the night before with confidence.

Surely Wes or David had emailed him back by now, and Blaine needed a good distraction.

Kurt would understand. Or better yet, He wouldn't.

* * *

When Kurt finally returned home that evening—six-thirty, a whole half hour late!—Blaine barely waited until he'd put down his bag and hung up his coat before launching himself into his Dom's arms, basking in the warm, comforting feeling of Kurt's embrace, the startled, pleased laugh he gave and the affectionate brush of his lips against Blaine's forehead.

"Hi, sweetheart," Kurt said after a few moments, still making no move to pull away. "I missed you too."

Reluctantly, Blaine moved back until he could see Kurt's face. "Andrew has dinner ready. There's salad with some fresh veggies from the garden. And I made cheesecake!"

Kurt's eyebrows rose in delighted surprise as He considered Blaine. "Cheesecake? Did Andrew tell you it's my favorite?"

Blaine beamed. "Tiramisu cheesecake," he confirmed. "And no, I just thought it'd be nice. It's my grandmother's recipe!"

Kurt closed his eyes and moaned, dipping his forehead to lean against Blaine's. "That sounds positively sinful…just what I need after today. I can't wait! Thank you, baby. I don't know how you're always so perfect."

He kissed Blaine, deep and slow, and Blaine kissed Him back hungrily, soaking up his Dom's praise.

"You should eat," he said when Kurt finally pulled back. "You've had a long day; you must be exhausted."

Kurt blinked at him and pouted. "Can we eat the cheesecake first?"

Blaine shook his head, biting his lip to keep from laughing. "Absolutely not!"

Kurt sighed dramatically. "And here I thought that _I _was the one who gave orders around here! Alright, lead the way, Sancho! I suppose I've got some food to put away before I can get to the good stuff."

Blaine did laugh then, rising up on his tippy-toes (even though he didn't _really_ need to) to peck Kurt's mouth again—because he could and because Kurt was _adorable_, Master or no—then spun on his heels to head into the kitchen.

* * *

Kurt told Blaine all about his day at the office over their meal, which is to say that He ranted, but finally exhausted himself and moved on to ask Blaine how he'd passed his time. Blaine happily chattered on about the garden, so grateful that he and Kurt could just _be_ like this, free and easy in their domestic comfort.

And then there was nothing more to say about their time apart, and Kurt, apparently, remembered the night before, suggested with such genuine eagerness that Blaine should use his computer once they were finished eating to find out if his friends had written him back, and Blaine stiffened in his chair, twirling his fork again and again and again in his pasta until the spaghetti was twined up almost to his fingers.

"Blaine?" Kurt said, his voice laced with concern.

Blaine dropped his fork, bowed his head and stared into his half-empty plate. "They're, umm, they're good. They were happy to hear from me. They asked if you'd let me meet up with them, maybe sometime in the next month…"

"Blaine," Kurt repeated, this time stern and commanding. "Blaine, look at me."

Blaine's head flew up, his eyes meeting Kurt's own—_cold, angry… disappointed_?—his face heating to what he feared might be beet-red.

"Blaine, what was the rule I gave you?"

Blaine didn't need to ask Him which one. "That I can… I can use anything in the house, but I need to ask to use the desktop, and… and you need to be here."

He waited, skin still blazing, for Master to pass his judgment.

"That is correct," Kurt said simply, finally. Then, "finish your food, Blaine."

Blaine obeyed.

* * *

He was on his knees beside the bed, Master seated in front of him, his head bowed and posture stiff and it all felt… it all felt so familiar, and he hated it, hated the reminder of _there_. He tried to focus on the things that were different. The room around him, quiet, empty of other subs. The soft give of a rug under his knees. Kurt. Kurt Kurt Kurt Kurt Kurt…

Kurt was speaking.

"I'm sure you've been spanked before, not just whipped?" He asked, voice softer than it had been at the table but just as imposing.

Blaine nodded.

"A verbal answer, Blaine."

"Yes."

"Very good. How many have you taken?"

Blaine flinched at the rush of memories. "I've… fifty, Master."

He dared to glance up and caught a flash of… something, flitting across Kurt's face, his eyebrows raised. And then it was gone.

"What are you being punished for?" Master asked.

"For breaking a rule. For using your computer without your knowledge or presence or permission."

"Very good," Kurt repeated. A hand came to rest on his head, and Blaine flinched again, but the hand only petted him, then twined through his curls to grip there in a gesture that was already familiar, comforting. "Relax, sweetheart. You need to trust me." He paused, cleared his throat and withdrew his hand. "This was your first infraction. I think fifteen strikes is sufficient. You may stand and strip."

Blaine scrambled to do so, embarrassed at his own clumsiness. Fifteen strikes was nothing, so why was it affecting him like this? This was Kurt, not the center. _This was Kurt, not the center!_

When he was naked he stood there, arms tense at his sides, waiting for Master's next command. His body began to tremble unbidden, and Kurt's hand slipped into his, squeezed briefly and then disappeared. "Across my lap, Blaine," He said.

Blaine nodded, and quickly moved to situate himself, painfully aware of the way his stubbornly hard cock was pressing into Kurt's thigh. This was not how he wanted their first sexual contact to go, but clearly he hadn't been thinking about that when he'd broken the rules this afternoon. When he'd deliberately—

"Wait," he said, and Kurt's hand froze in midair.

"Blaine?" He questioned, brow furrowed when Blaine twisted to look at Him. "Do you need to safeword?"

Blaine shook his hand. "I need to tell you something. I need to tell you I—I broke the rule on purpose. Because I wanted you to punish me." The words left him in a rush, leaving him no time for second-guessing or distress.

"You—why?" Kurt looked truly puzzled now, disoriented, and it was strange for Blaine to see his Dom like this, at a time like this. He looked… He looked _human_, and in an instant Blaine's mysterious tension melted away.

"I—it's getting hard," Blaine confessed. "At the center they stunted our hormones, but here… I don't know if the medication has left my system or if it's just… if it's just _you_, but it's getting hard… that is, I'm getting desperate…"

"You need to be dominated," Kurt supplied, his face falling into understanding. "_Truly_ dominated."

Blaine nodded. "I'm sorry, Kurt. I'm sorry I did it like this. It was wrong of me. I should have thought it through." _I should have trusted you_.

Kurt was quite for a long moment, but then he shook his head, seemed to re-orient himself. "Right," He said. "Are you ready for your punishment, then? Unless you really _do _want to safeword."

"No," Blaine said, at once confused and grateful.

"You _have_ earned it," Kurt pointed out. "Turn around then, go on. Let's get this over with, and then we can talk. And Blaine… I want you to count."

The first strike of Kurt's hand across his naked flesh felt a little like salvation. Kurt moved quickly and efficiently, spacing out the places he landed his hits, pausing to rub briefly at Blaine's skin when the number he cried out sounded particularly strained. When the pain really set in, Blaine was grateful for it, his body nearly singing his relief as blood rose to color his cheeks. By the last strike he was crying softly, rutting into his Dom's thigh, and he didn't understand because compared to the punishments he'd received at the center this was _nothing_, almost a pleasure cruise, really, but he couldn't string his thoughts together enough to make sense of it, or to care.

Strong arms tugged him up, pulled him against a firm, warm body and he clung there, folded his legs up into his belly and rested his hip on Master's knee so that his stinging ass was exposed to the cool air; buried his face in Master's neck and let Master rock him, humming in his ear, soothing Blaine down to the deepest corners of his soul.

* * *

They didn't talk about it anymore that night. Blaine's descent back to reality was slow, peaceful, the only words he could find to mumble as Kurt rubbed lotion onto the pink of his ass were a weak "_I made cheesecake._"

Kurt laughed, made sure Blaine was present and settled and comfortable before leaving the room and reappearing with two large slices. They ate them together curled in bed, exchanging sugary kisses and nuzzling into warm patches of skin until Blaine's eyes began to droop.

"Kurt?" he said with some effort, blinking rapidly to cling to consciousness.

"Yes love?"

"I think I'd like to… I'd like to sleep with you tonight, if that's okay?"

His eyes fell closed and Kurt's lips fell upon them; Blaine felt rather than saw Him grin.

"That's _always_ okay, sweetheart," Kurt's voice came, thick with emotion. "That's—that's everything thing I want, forever, you here warm and safe by my side."

Blaine surrendered to sleep, the pillow soft beneath his cheek, Kurt's hand stroking over and over, up and down the curve of his torso, a dreamy, contented smile on his face.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:**Things get a ridiculously smutty and fluffy in this chapter, just to warn you!

* * *

**_Wednesday_**

Kurt was warm, comfortable, content. The bedding beneath him was soft with perfect give, and he rolled his shoulders back into it, spread his arms and legs and stretched and curled his toes. He opened his eyes and saw… a man, crouched down, maybe a boy. Broad shoulders and thick thighs and sun-kissed skin, piercing golden eyes and heavy dark brows and an even thicker mess of dark curls to match. Kurt went to him, smiled and stroked his face, fisted his hair and forced his head back, licking up the exposed arch of his throat, right over the bob of his Adam's apple.

"You were waiting for me, gorgeous? God, you're perfect. So eager for me too…" He moved in closer, pressed his hard length against the man's face and rubbed it there, moaning, while the man tried uselessly to turn his head, to mouth at him, and Kurt just laughed. "So desperate, my love. So eager for me to fill your pretty little mouth. Want it so bad; gonna feel so perfect, sweetheart." He shifted, lining up, watching his sub's chest heave a sigh of relief as his tongue spread against the slow slide of his Master's cock. Kurt groaned. "God, Blaine, you're amazing." His fingers tightened. "Blaine…"

"Blaine…"

Kurt stirred with a moan, fists clenching and hips arching unbidden. He heard a whine in answer, felt something nuzzling into his crotch and opened his eyes reluctantly, squinting down at the mess of curls lingering between his legs.

"Blaine?" he repeated tentatively.

"Kurt let me, please let me suck you Master please… need you so bad; you're so hard and you smell so good…"

"God, Blaine, I don't…"

"Please, Master. I need it. Wanna make you feel good…" He nipped gently at Kurt's rigid length through the cotton of his sleep-pants and briefs, and coupled with the dream it was enough to send an unbearable rush of heat surging through Kurt's body. He groaned, reaching down with one hand to stroke Blaine's face, then to grip into his hair.

"Alright, alright," Kurt said, breathless and gruff. "Yes." Using his free hand, he tugged sloppily and desperately at the waist of his pants. Blaine was quick to get the memo and work them the rest of the way down his thighs, Kurt's cock springing up and nearly slapping him in the face.

Blaine moaned, inhaling deeply and then licking curiously up the shaft. "Don't tease, baby," Kurt urged. "Come on; you wanted it. Take it down."

Obediently, Blaine sank his mouth over the head of Kurt's cock, swirling his tongue as he worked his way deeper. Kurt's fist tightened in Blaine's curls, and it was all he could do not to force the sub's head down further. "That's it, sweetheart. So good for me. My perfect boy."

Blaine hummed in contentment. Kurt felt him gag a bit as his cock reached the back of Blaine's throat, and he shuddered with pleasure. "Use your… use your hand," he advised, sighing happily when Blaine's fingers joined his mouth. "That's amazing, sweetheart. So good, I… suck a little bit harder… _God_, Blaine. Keep your fist there. I'm going to fuck your mouth now, baby; I know you can take it for me."

There was no way he could stop himself even if he wanted too. Blaine's mouth was hot and wet, his tongue dancing across Kurt's flesh so sweetly it hardly mattered if he lacked finesse. Blaine was made for this, just for him: Kurt was sure of it. He thrust up gently at first, his free hand moving to smooth over the warm expanse of Blaine's back in comfort. He could feel every deep, uneven breath Blaine sucked through his nose lifting his ribs, and Blaine was whining around his cock, his hips shifting against the sheets every so often like he couldn't control it. Kurt moaned, thrust up harder, and when he was satisfied that Blaine could, indeed, take it just fine—what's more, he seemed to be enjoying it—he let himself go.

Slipping his hand from Blaine's hair to brace himself against the mattress, he let instinct take over, his mouth falling open as his hips moved with abandon, driving his cock repeatedly into the slick suction of Blaine's mouth. Blaine groaned around him, his own hips grinding more freely, and the vibration was just the right thing to send Kurt careening over the edge. He felt almost guilty for spilling down the sub's throat with no warning, but Blaine took it in stride, only choking a little and swallowing, swallowing, swallowing.

As his orgasm waned, Kurt wished absently that their positioning allowed him to see the accompanying bob of Blaine's throat. When it all too soon became too much, Kurt's fingers wound once again into Blaine's curls, this time to tug him off and up, up for a sloppy, passionate kiss that felt as necessary as breathing.

"Please," Blaine said, voice hoarse when Kurt finally detached their mouths. "Please, Master, I need—"

Blaine was still hard and heavy, pressed up against Kurt's hip and whimpering with the effort not to move. Kurt smiled blissfully, tilting Blaine's head until their foreheads were pressed together. "Shh, sweetheart," he soothed. "Tell me what you want."

"Just let me," he thrust his hips once, clearly restrained, moaning against Kurt's lips. "Please, Kurt…"

"Go ahead." Kurt allowed his hands to slide down the smooth skin of Blaine's back to settle on his sore ass, gripping hard to both cheeks and pressing down. "I want to feel you come against me."

Blaine needed no more urging, taking Kurt's lips unbidden as he began to rut frantically against his hip and belly. Less than a minute later he was coming with a guttural cry that Kurt swallowed down, panting helplessly, putty in Kurt's arms.

Kurt held him, completely content to ignore both the mess that covered them both and the implications of what just happened as Blaine nuzzled his face against Kurt's neck, still lying half on top of his Dom, breathing more steadily by the minute.

"I love you," Kurt whispered, pressing a kiss to the messy nest of his hair. He couldn't notsay it, rationality be damned. It was about time he allowed himself to just _feel_ something for once.

Blaine shifted so he could look at Kurt, his eyes—as always—unbearably open and warm and sincere. "Do you really?"

Kurt swallowed thickly. "Yes. I know it's too soon. I know it's—"

"Shut up," Blaine interrupted him, cheeky, beaming ear-to-ear. "I love you too."

"I should spank you again for being insubordinate," Kurt said, reverently tracing the line of Blaine's jaw with his fingers, unable to break their eye contact even though the intensity was nearly too much.

"And I should probably care."

Kurt kissed him then, chaste and sweet. They cuddled together in their bed, no words or space between them, until the blare of Kurt's alarm rudely harkened them to the demands of reality.

* * *

When Kurt left for work he was still giddy over what that had transpired that morning, but as the day wore on guilt and anxiety began to creep in to rain on his parade.

As perfect as everything had felt, he couldn't hide from the fact that he'd acted carelessly. He'd been determined to wait until the end of the week to engage in anything sexual with Blaine for a reason, and that reason was primarily Blaine's own safety. He'd wanted to get to know the sub first, and if all went well, to have a thorough discussion with him before drafting a contract: then and only then would they get around to the actual sex.

He hadn't accounted for falling in love, for feeling more desire and affection for his chosen sub than he'd ever experienced in his life or even known himself capable of. At least not this quickly.

And now he'd gone and done what no responsible Dom would ever do. He could almost hear his father lecturing in his head. Blaine had had no safeword, no real ability to consent. He had admitted to Kurt only last night that his hormones were spiraling out of control. How could Kurt be sure it was Blaine who had wanted what they did together and not merely his instincts?

How could he be sure that when Blaine had returned his hasty "I love you," he'd truly meant it? Kurt has said it first, after all, and any sub worth his salt would feel the urge to tell his Master whatever he wanted to hear.

By the time he reached home, Kurt had thoroughly worked himself into a tizzy. He returned the kiss Blaine gave him in greeting briefly and with some degree of nostalgia, not meeting Blaine's eyes as he told the sub, "We have to talk."

Blaine's face fell. "I did something wrong, didn't I? This morning, talking back to you? I knew once you realized… obviously, nobody would want a sub who's so impudent…"

"No!" Kurt said, turning Blaine's chin to look him in the eye. "No, sweetheart, you did nothing wrong, okay? I love it when you're cheeky, and I'll let you know when it gets out of line. I said I love you, and I meant it. You're not going anywhere. Unless… unless you want to."

Blaine shook his head furiously, his curls dancing with the movement, then leaned up to kiss Kurt again. "No. I don't want to leave you."

"Good." Kurt smiled, though it was still somewhat strained. "Is dinner ready; do you know?"

"Yes," Blaine said, jubilant again, bouncing a bit on his toes as he returned Kurt's smile.

"Great. I'm starving. Eat first, then talk. How does that sound?"

"Whatever you like."

"Yes," Kurt said, chuckling. "I suppose it is, isn't it?"

* * *

After dinner they retreated to the living room, Kurt sinking into his chair on instinct. Blaine moved to take what was becoming his customary place on the floor by Kurt's feet, but Kurt stopped him.

"Not for this, Blaine. Could you fetch me a pencil and pad of paper from my desk, please, and then you may choose a seat. From the furniture, I mean."

Blaine nodded, hurrying to do as asked without question. Kurt's eyes followed him around the room, lingering on his ass and remembering how it had felt under his hands, how it had still been pink-tinged this morning from Blaine's punishment the previous night.

Those were _not_ the thoughts he needed to be having!

Blaine handed him the items he requested, then surveyed the room indecisively. Kurt watched his grin widen as he seemed to reach a decision, and then much to Kurt's surprised he plopped down on the arm of Kurt's chair.

Kurt gave him _the look_, raising his eyebrows, but Blaine only stared back.

"What?" he said too-innocently. "You said on the furniture!"

Kurt bit his lips to keep from smiling. "You're right, I did. I suppose I'll have to be more specific next time."

Blaine sighed contentedly, wiggling around and finally settling with his head cradled on Kurt's shoulder, his back against the back of the chair. This was not how Kurt had pictured them having this conversation, but it seemed to be the way it was going to happen. He took a deep breath.

"To start off, I need to apologize to you for this morning…"

Blaine straightened immediately, alarmed, and Kurt was quick to continue.

"It wasn't right of me to allow something like that to happen between us without any prior conversation. I had planned for us to talk before anything happened; that's part of the reason I wanted us to wait until the end of the week."

Blaine's brow furrowed. "I don't see what the problem is. I wanted you; you wanted me. It made me really happy, Kurt."

Kurt smiled sadly. "It made me happy too," he admitted. "I don't mean to imply that it wasn't… that it wasn't _wonderful_, Blaine. We both know that it was. But it was still irresponsible on my part. So I'm sorry." He paused before pushing ahead. "And I want us to talk. Right now. About sex."

"Okaaayyy…" Blaine said, clearly still a little lost. "What about sex? I already told you about Sebastian—"

"Not in any detail," Kurt interrupted. "And past history isn't the only thing, Blaine. It's only right that if we both intend for this to work we draft a contract. I need to know your limits, and you need to have a safeword. We have to be smart about this. It's what I was taught, and I won't settle for less."

For a moment Blaine was silent, then "you want us to have a contract," he repeated, voice hushed.

"Yes."

"I… That's…" he took a deep breath. "That's not something we were taught to expect. Most subs purchased out of the center are treated essentially like slaves."

"That's unfortunate, Blaine." _Unfortunately legal._ "And it's not nearly good enough for you."

Blaine's hand settled over Kurt's where it gripped the notepad, twining their fingers and squeezing. "Thank you, Kurt."

Kurt squeezed back. He cleared his throat, trying stoically to remain businesslike for what was, at this point, probably going to be an awkward conversation for them both. "So… sexual history. That's a good place to start. Tell me about Sebastian."

"There's really not much to tell," Blaine said. "He transferred into the private boarding school I attended—Dalton—my junior year. He… pursued me. Rather intensely. I wasn't sure how to handle it, to be honest. It was flattering, and I've never been able to say no easily—of course, now we know why that is—so it just kind of happened. After we… after we did it once, he lost interest. It upset me at the time, but mostly because I was angry at myself for giving in."

"Was he a Dom?" Kurt asked.

Blaine wrinkled his nose. "Not at the time. I hope not."

"Did he use protection?"

"Yes."

Kurt nodded. "Is that all there is?"

Blaine looked down at his lap. "At the center, one of the trainers… he would harass us, sometimes."

Kurt felt his jaw clenching, and tried to catch Blaine's eye. "Harass you how, exactly?"

"He made us touch him. The guys, anyway. And one time he had me corned, and he tried…" he swallowed thickly. "I think he was planning to make me blow him, but he heard someone coming so he stopped. That's it; I swear."

"Who was it? Give me a name!" Kurt's hands were tensing, curling into fists. He forced his fingers to relax.

"It's fine, Kurt. He was fired. They caught him raping one of the girls."

"He needs to be in prison," Kurt insisted. "What's to stop him from finding another center to work in? It is _not_ fine, Blaine."

"I know," Blaine whispered, finally looking at him. "I know it's not. Look, I only know that his first name was James. That's it."

Kurt nodded tersely. "Did they at least get you all counseling? At least the girl?"

"A lot of the guys didn't want to come forward," Blaine admitted. "But yes, there was someone we could talk to. It's in the past, Kurt. Please let it go."

Kurt sighed but nodded again, tugging at Blaine until he tumbled into his lap. He held the sub close, their noses pressed together, taking comfort in the gentle puffs of his breath. "Sub abuse makes me so angry. You have no idea the things I've seen, Blaine. The thought of anyone touching you…"

"Shh," Blaine hummed into his ear, kissing him gently. "I'm yours now, though. I'm safe."

"Of course you are." Kurt tightened his grip.

They stayed like that for a long stretch of time, until finally Kurt forced himself to pull back. "Alright. Let's move on. I think the next thing we should establish is a safew—"

"Wait. You didn't tell me about you!" Blaine pointed out.

Kurt felt his face flush, and he fought the urge to avert his eyes. "There's not really that much to tell. There were a few subs I fooled around with in college, you know, for practice… but I've never really been comfortable with the idea of being intimate with someone outside of a claim."

"So wait… you're telling me…?"

"I haven't done all that much," Kurt admitted, forcing the words out.

Blaine's jaw dropped. "But… but you've seemed so confident! I actually assumed you'd been in at least one claim before that maybe didn't work out, because you're so good with me, Kurt, and—"

"I am a Dom!" Kurt interjected, raising his chin. "I've had training!" He hesitated, then added quietly "and I may have had a friend help me practice for a few weeks before I went looking around the different centers…"

"You looked at more than one center?"

Kurt nodded reluctantly. "I started with the privately trained subs first, but just… no one stood out."

"Until me," Blaine supplied.

"Until you."

To his surprise Blaine kissed him then, deep and loving. It only took Kurt a few moments to respond, his hand coming up to cup the sub's face, taking control of the kiss instinctively. When they finally broke apart, Kurt was breathless.

"You're spectacular, Kurt. I didn't know I—I just feel so lucky. The center had me up for purchase for over six months, and nobody ever took interest… I guess because I'm kind of short, and not exactly hairless, and I know I'm not the most muscular, either…"

"I guess they just couldn't recognize perfection when the saw it," Kurt said haughtily. "Some men have no taste, no eye for beauty."

Blaine nuzzled their faces together, his eyes suspiciously moist. "Or maybe it's just that I'm only perfect for you."

Kurt searched blindly for Blaine's hand, tangling their fingers as before and squeezing firmly. "That must be it," he agreed. "But I'm afraid we've gotten distracted from our business." He wanted more than anything to throw in the towel and drag Blaine to bed, show him _exactly _how perfectly they fit together, responsibility be damned. But Blaine deserved better than that.

He groaned, shifting in Kurt's lap and burying his face in the curve of Kurt's shoulder. "Do we have to?"

"Yes. We absolutely do."

"Alright," Blaine conceded, straightening and then shifting back onto the arm of the chair with exaggerated irritation. Kurt nearly laughed. "Where were we?"

"Safewords. First and foremost, you need a safeword."

"I don't know what I should pick…"

"Have you heard of the color system?

Blaine shook his head. "The center, Kurt. I'm lucky I even know what a safeword is!"

Kurt frowned, but continued. "It's a common system, kind of like a stop sign. Red means stop, yellow means slow down, and green means go, of course. I like it because of the _slow down_ word. It affords you a little extra protection. But if you'd prefer, you can pick something more unique."

"I think that sounds perfect for now. I'm not… I'm not sure that I'll think to use them, to be honest. I've never been allowed to before. And I can't imagine you doing anything I'd need to stop."

"We can work on it." Kurt smiled. "For our first few scenes, I'll be sure to check in, and hopefully that will get you more accustomed to it. And Blaine—you can safeword during a punishment as well."

Blaine nodded. "I kind of gathered that from last night. But I don't think I'd feel okay with doing that, at least not right now. A punishment is something I've earned, after all."

"Well, it's there," Kurt said. He squeezed Blaine's fingers again. "Things are going to be so much different for you now than they were at the center; you'll see."

"They already are," Blaine said, voice heavy with affection. "What's next, after safeword?"

"Well, I thought maybe… limits? Hard limits, to start out with."

Blaine was silent for a long moment. "I've never thought about this stuff before. I'm not sure I'll really know until we try some things."

"That's okay. I think we both have a lot of learning to do. But… there are few things I definitely want on the list to start with. No sharp objects, for one. I faint at the sight of blood."

"Totally okay with that. I don't think I'm much of a masochist, except…"

"Except?"

Blaine flushed. "One time, before the center, I kind of stumbled upon a video on wax play. That looked kind of hot. I know I was one of those kids that always used to play with the candles after blowing them out…"

Kurt raised his eyebrows pointedly.

"Okay, so a few times before blowing them out!" Blaine admitted with exasperation. "But I only burnt myself once! I learned my lesson!"

Kurt tried unsuccessfully to stifle his smile at the image of a child-sized Blaine being scolded as his fingers were bandaged. "Right, wax I can do. I'm afraid fire is out."

"Fine by me," Blaine agreed, still a little huffy.

"Can you think of anything else you definitely don't want?" Blaine thought for a minute, then shook his head. "Well, I'm putting sharing in the no column," Kurt continued. "I hope you can live with that. I don't exactly play nicely with others."

"I think I'll survive," Blaine said wryly, cracking the smallest of smiles.

"Moving on then…"

"Wait! I may… there may be one thing, if it's not too much to ask."

"Of course not, go ahead," Kurt said, curling the fingers of his free hand around Blaine's forearm and studying him carefully.

"I don't think I like gags much. I know that's a lot to ask. They were… fond of them, at the center, but I hate feeling like it's hard to breath, and I hate not being able to swallow. I almost drowned once while we were on vacation at the beach when I was a kid, and I just…"

"That's perfectly fine. You're, umm—it's quite a turn on the way you babble and beg. I think I'd miss it." He felt his cheeks flaming as he said the words, but they seemed to have the desired effect on his sub, whose expression transitioned quite quickly from unease to a sort of flirtatious pride.

"Really? That's, umm… I don't do it on purpose."

Kurt only smiled at him. "Is that everything, then?"

"Yeah. For now, anyway."

"Great. We can always add later… but let's jump over to things you like, or maybe it's more accurate to say things you want to try? Besides wax play?"

Blaine sucked in a deep breath. "Wow, okay. You first."

Kurt's mouth fell open, but he promptly closed it again. "That's really unfair!"

"Says who?"

"Says _your Dom_."

"Who should rightfully be the one making these kinds of decisions," Blaine pointed out obnoxiously, batting his eyelashes.

"Who is rightfully the one who gets to decide when your sass goes too far," Kurt retorted easily.

Blaine pouted. "That's really not fair."

"Pot, meet kettle."

"You'll have to explain to me how exactly one goes about roleplaying cookware," Blaine said, brow furrowed in mock confusion.

Kurt sighed. This was clearly going to be a long night.

* * *

A few hours later, they were once again cuddled together in bed. Kurt reached to switch off the lamp, but Blaine's fingers wrapped around his arm, halting the movement.

"Wait," Blaine said, peering up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Aren't we going to—" he shifted, and Kurt could suddenly feel Blaine's hardness pressing into his thigh. "Before bed? Please, Master?"

Kurt inhaled sharply. "No."

"But you said this morning was a problem because we hadn't talked…"

"And because we didn't have a contract in place," Kurt supplied. "We still haven't signed anything."

Blaine pouted. "Please, Master." His fingers brushed slowly down the expanse of Kurt's chest, teasingly over his stomach and lower to trace where Kurt was rapidly swelling in the boxers he'd thrown on for the night. "I need you."

In the blink of an eye, Kurt had Blaine's wrist clasped tightly in his hand, their bodies flipped so that the sub was pinned to the mattress below him. Blaine whined and tried to buck up beneath him; Kurt tried hard not to moan with the want of him.

"Don't make me punish you again," he warned, speaking carefully and evenly. "I said no. You know better than to argue."

"Yes, Master," Blaine said, his hips stilling instantly and clearly with great difficulty. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed."

Kurt sighed and kissed him, soft and brief, then rolled off to Blaine's side. He bit back the urge to apologize in return or to say something dismissive. This Dom thing was difficult, or at least it was when you had a sub so beautiful and adoring and tempting and _manipulative_ in your bed. "It's forgotten," he settled on finally, turning to face Blaine again. "Perhaps I reacted too harshly. But you make me want you _so much_, Blaine. And I have plans."

Blaine smiled. "I am looking forward to your plans."

"Me too," Kurt said, tilting their foreheads together. "I can hardly wait. But we have to, if this is going to be special and perfect and right like you deserve."

He lifted his arm in invitation, and much to his surprise Blaine turned away from him before wriggling back, back until his head was resting in the crook of Kurt's arm, his ass pressed into Kurt's hip. Kurt stretched awkwardly to off the forgotten light, and when he shifted again to curl around his sub, an arm wrapped snug around Blaine's chest, his cock settled right between Blaine's cheeks.

Divine torture, Kurt decided. Well, he could impart a bit of that too.

"Blaine?" he said into the darkness.

"Yes?"

"Remember what I told you at the beginning of the week, that you couldn't come without permission?"

"Yes," Blaine said again, this time with a bit of suspicion.

"Tomorrow morning after I leave for work, I want you to lie here and tease yourself. At least fifteen minutes. And again on Friday morning. I want you good and desperate for me, sweetheart."

Blaine groaned. "That's cruel," he noted dully.

Kurt laughed a little, leaned forward until his lips brushed against the warm skin of Blaine's ear. "I think it's hot," he whispered, nipping lazily at the lobe. "And I promise it will all be worth it."

"It better," Blaine said petulantly, then "Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"Hmm," Kurt sighed happily, inhaling the pleasant scent of his sub's curls as he gave in to the heaviness of his eyes, allowed them to fall closed as his grip on Blaine tightened. "Love you too"—a final exhale, and Kurt was asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Just wanted to pop in and say that I truly appreciate all the reviews! I try to respond to them individually but life has been crazy lately, so if I missed you I apologize 3

* * *

_Thursday_

Blaine groaned in frustration, abruptly stilling both the fingers he'd been dancing along his cock and the hand that had been palming his balls. He glanced at the clock. Only three more minutes to go. It wasn't cheating that he took a one-minute break every two, was it?

The thing is, it wasn't even his hands that were bring bringing him continually close to the edge. It was Kurt's voice. His _Dom's_ voice, echoing in his head: _I want you good and desperate for me, sweetheart_.

It was the image of Kurt's body—though he still had yet to see the man completely naked—and thoughts of the things Kurt could do with it. Of the things Kurt _would_ do with it tomorrow, and if Blaine was lucky, the day after that, and the day after that, and every day for the rest of their lives.

He sighed happily, fingers moving again without really thinking about it. His eyes fell closed, and he tried to conjure the phantom weight of Kurt in his mouth. That had been the real tease, to have Him once and not again, to have Him once and then be told: _wait_.

Blaine had never been a particularly patient person, but patience seemed to be a quality that Kurt possessed in abundance. Just his luck.

He had to be the luckiest sub in the world.

He teased his fingers back to his hole, imagining they were not his own, but Kurt's. He'd never had anyone really touch him there before. Sebastian had made Blaine prepare himself while he watched. Blaine tensed at the memory of that moment, the humiliation only just overcome by curiosity and desire.

He wondered what he'd feel if Kurt asked him to do the same. The thought made him tighten his fist around his cock, thrust up hard—_close_, Blaine, too close. He twisted once more over the head then let go, instead working just the tip of one finger inside.

Kurt was bigger than Sebastian had been. If it had felt that good pleasuring Kurt with his mouth, what would it feel like when his Master finally claimed him?

Blaine whined, and the alarm went off, and he froze.

Slowly, he inched his finger in further, wincing at the dry burn and reaching for the lube. Fifteen minutes. Kurt _had _said that was a minimum…

* * *

Thirty minutes of torture later found Blaine still on edge and rushing through his chores. He tried to perform them to his usual perfection—especially because Kurt had hinted that there might be a surprise for him later if he was particularly efficient today—but his body ached so sweetly that his focus was off.

He was on his forth try of attempting to properly fold Kurt's shirt when Andrew appeared at the bedroom door, and _laughed_.

"Having some trouble today?" he asked, the tease in his voice catching Blaine off guard.

Blaine flushed, glanced at the older sub's face then looked away. "I'm just distracted. What has you in such a good mood?"

Now Andrew looked a little sheepish. "Didn't he say? Master's given me the weekend off. I'm going to visit my daughter."

"Oh?" Now Blaine did look up. "I didn't know you had a daughter."

Andrew smiled, slight and proud, and nodded. "She was sixteen last week. You want to see?"

"Of course!" Blaine said, his curiosity giving way to actual excitement. He watched as Andrew pulled a battered wallet out of his back pocket and proudly showed Blaine what looked to be a recent school photo of a pretty girl with Andrew's dark brown hair and blue eyes. "She's a looker," he offered kindly, clapping Andrew on the arm and hoping he wouldn't take the comment the wrong way.

To Blaine's delight, he beamed. "She… um. My old Domme kept her away from me for several years, but she got her own mark last year. Dominate. So now she can make her own decisions, and she looked me up. Master's been great about letting me see her."

"That's wonderful, Andrew! I mean… well, I'm so glad you've been able to reconnect!"

"Thank you," Andrew said sincerely, then put the wallet away and elbowed Blaine almost playfully. "And thank you for this weekend!"

Blaine looked down, feeling his face heat, but he couldn't stop his smile. "I'm… I mean…"

"Why don't you let me finish here? Go take a bath or something, relax, get yourself cleaned up. I'm already finished for today, and you don't have much to go."

"That really wouldn't be fair…"

"Blaine," Andrew said affably—the first time he'd used Blaine's name. "Go."

He winked, and Blaine managed a smile for him as he slunk out of the room, catching a passing glimpse of his red-flushed face in the bedroom mirror.

* * *

Three hours later Blaine felt relaxed, refreshed, and bored out of his mind. He thought longingly and briefly about Kurt's computer in the den, but quickly pushed the idea aside. In his experience, making the same mistake twice was never a wise move, and it was usually an extremely painful one. He really wanted his ass intact for tomorrow night.

Blaine had just settled reluctantly in front of the TV when he heard the unmistakable sound of keys jingling and a doorknob being turned. He jumped up, absentmindly clicking the screen off and tossing the remote on the couch as he headed into the foyer.

Kurt was standing there, fussing with his flattened hair in the hallway mirror. "I hate rain," He exclaimed dully when his eyes met Blaine's in the glass. "Especially when they haven't called for it, so I didn't bring an umbrella."

"_Kurt_," Blaine said, whiny and demanding and grinning hugely, hiding none of it.

Kurt turned to him slowly, his own face softening into a smile. "Hi, baby. Happy to see me?"

He moved to open his arms, then thought better of it and held up a finger instead. He peeled off his coat, and as soon as it was secure on the hanger Blaine was pressed into his embrace, his face tucked against Kurt's neck.

"Of course. Always, Master. Is this my surprise?"

Kurt chuckled, his nose buried in Blaine's curls. "Only part of it. The other part you need to get dressed for," He pulled back to side-eye Blaine's white wife-beater and lounge pants.

Actually, the shirt was one of Kurt's own, but if He didn't notice Blaine wasn't going to tell Him.

"We're going somewhere?" Blaine asked too-eager, excitement bubbling within him. He loved his new home, but he had been stuck here now for six days.

"We're going shopping. My sub deserves some new clothes, and I fancy that I deserve to dress him up."

Kurt's eyes glittered, and Blaine kissed Him just because.

"Yes, please yes. Let's go!"

"Change first," Kurt insisted, taking Blaine by the elbow and tugging him towards the bedroom, actually giggling along the way.

* * *

Blaine had always loved shopping, but it was even better now that Kurt was with him. Now he didn't have to struggle to choose between the dazzling array of options himself, and there was someone else to decide which outfits were worth the money and which weren't.

Of course, it just so happened that everything Kurt liked on him was worth the money. Blaine beamed and spun and puffed out his chest, happy to be the center of attention, preening whenever Kurt moved closer to straighten his bowtie.

"I must admit," Kurt said as they made their way through the mall, headed back to Kurt's car, both clutching so many bags they were nearly toppling over. "I was skeptical when you described your preferred style to me, but it works for you. I feel like I'll be claiming Cary Grant, and—"

"Blllaaaiiinnnne!" a high-pitched voice squealed, cutting Kurt off. Seconds later Blaine was knocked off his feet, his head narrowly missing a bench and the bags spilling from his hands.

He recovered momentarily, his heart lifting with recognition, and returned the exuberant girl's embrace. "Hey, Britt."

"My _God_," said an exasperated woman with creamy dark skin, her face appearing over Brittany's shoulder. "I was hoping we could top off today at two punishments…" She grabbed the blonde's arm and tugged, prying her from Blaine's body, but Brittany seemed not to mind, beaming as she was pulled to her feet.

"How's my baby Warbler?" she asked excitedly as Kurt, brow furrowed in confusion and anger, helped Blaine to stand.

"I'm great, Brittany," he answered, unable to keep the smile from his face even as he rubbed at what would surely be a bump on his head, Kurt brushing non-existent debris from his shoulders. "It's good to see you."

"Look, I'm sorry about this," the other woman, presumably Brittany's Domme, said to Kurt. "She just took off when she saw him, clean broke the leash!" She held up a pale pink strap of material that had clearly once been the aforementioned leash, and Brittany's face faded into a sad pout.

"I'm sorry, Tana. I didn't mean too! I just saw the Warbler, and he looked so pretty and I didn't think…" she abruptly turned to Kurt, reaching out to touch the coif of his hair. "You're pretty too. Are you an elf? Cause I thought elves ate birds…"

"That's his Dom, Brittany," her Domme said, sighing heavily.

"Oh. Sorry."

The Domme forced a tight smile, turning back to Kurt and offering her hand. "I'm Santana, and this is Brittany. I suppose our subs know each other."

Blaine watched as his Master shook the woman's hand politely. "Kurt, and my sub is Blaine. It's… a pleasure to meet you."

Santana lifted her eyebrows. "Oh, no need to pretend. But I am sorry; Britt's just… a little different. I assure you she'll be punished. If you'd like to recommend something in particular…"

"Oh, no, I'll leave that to you," Kurt said with a dry chuckle. "But… Blaine here doesn't really have too many friends, and we were just about to grab some dinner. Maybe after you take care of things you'd like to join us?"

He glanced at Blaine as He spoke, who smiled and nodded, pleased at the prospect of catching up with his friend. Brittany clapped her hands together in excitment.

Santana looked to her and smiled like she couldn't help it, although she seemed annoyed with herself for doing so. "I suppose we could do that—the restaurant near the Barnes and Noble?"

Kurt nodded, and Brittany squealed. Santana turned to her, face stern.

"But first it's off to the little Lady's room for you, missy. You don't go running away from me, and you don't go plowing over other people's subs—even if you do know them."

Brittany's lower lip quivered, tears rising to brighten her pretty blue eyes. "I'm sorry, Tana. I just got super excited."

"I know, sweetie," Santana said, briefly stroking her hair. "Now come."

Brittany seemed to cheer again, taking her Domme's hand. "See you soon, Blaine Warbler," she said, and Blaine offered her an encouraging smile. She then turned to Kurt, adding, "and your Keebler elf."

"Brittany! That's not nice! Apologize. Now."

"Sorry, Sir." Brittany said to Kurt, who glanced to Blaine and then smiled at the blonde almost fondly.

"That's alright, Brittany. Apology accepted. Go be a good girl for you Domme now, and we'll see you shortly."

Santana nodded, and Brittany waved, and Blaine watched them walk away.

* * *

A five minute trip to the car and a ten minute wait later, Blaine and Kurt were settled at a booth in the mall's cozy, dim-lit restaurant. Kurt's fingers curled possessively around Blaine's thigh, digging into his flesh and making him half-hard.

"So," Kurt said, taking a sip of his coffee. "What's her story?"

"Well, it's… it's a story," Blaine said, reluctant because their company could arrive at any minute. "Brittany was at the center with me. We started training within a week of each other, actually."

Kurt lifted one perfect eyebrow. "Continue."

"She, umm. Well. We were close, you see, and then about three months in this other sub came in. His name was Sam. We—"

"Oh, good, you guys beat us!" Santana said, approaching the table with a more subdued Brittany in tow. "I hate waiting. Waiter!" When no one immediately responded, she grabbed the nearest man in an apron by the elbow, spinning him to face her and nearly causing him to topple his tray. "I'll need a kneeling cushion for my sub," she told the man, gesturing to the end of the table."

"Of course, Ma'am," the waiter said sheepishly. If Blaine hadn't known better, he'd think the man was a sub. But it was unusual to find one working any job, even a service position. "Right away."

Once Brittany was supplied a cushion—along with a small stool that allowed her to comfortably eat from the table—and Santana seated next to her, one manicured hand resting on her sub's head, Kurt, much to Blaine's dismay, picked back up with their previous conversation.

"So Blaine was just telling me how you two met, Brittany. At the training center?"

Brittany looked to Santana, who nodded her permission to speak.

"I didn't like the center much," she said. "Especially not… not the cages. But Blaine Warbler made it better." She smiled at Blaine, and he offered her a sad smile of his own.

"I didn't see you there when I went looking, but then again I only asked for the males—how long have you two been together?"

Blaine shot his Dom a warning look, shaking his head, but Kurt either didn't notice or pretended not to.

"It's been about seven months now," Santana answered, her fingers stroking softly through her sub's hair. Brittany hummed, arching up into the touch. "We were very lucky to have found each other."

"Oh?" Kurt said. "How so? It sounds like you must have chosen her fairly quickly, if she'd been there about as long as Blaine…"

Blaine had to fight the urge to elbow his Dom in the side. That wasn't against the rules, exactly, but he was pretty sure it would earn him a punishment regardless.

"I didn't get Brittany from the training center," Santana said tersely, and Blaine silently prayed that would be the end of it.

"I'm sorry," Kurt said instead, and Blaine wanted to scream. He reached for his Dom's hand, tugging lightly, hoping to get his attention. "I'm a little confused."

"Brittany had to leave," Blaine blurted out, thinking off the top of his head. "She, umm… she had a sudden death in the family."

Now Blaine had Kurt's attention.

"I thought you said they weren't great about things like that?" He asked, brow furrowed.

Santana sighed, loudly, and for a moment Blaine thought that she—or maybe Brittany—would call him out for lying. Instead she said, "Could we maybe change the subject here? I'm hungry, but I can't decide between a steak or the fajitas…"

Finally, Kurt seemed to realize his error. His demeanor abruptly changed, and Blaine let his shoulders sag in relief. "I've only been here once, and I had the chicken parmesan, which was excellent, but my stepmom had the…"

Blaine caught Brittany's eye, wishing he was close enough to hug her, but settled for an apologetic smile instead. To his delight, Brittany smiled back and winked. Always a resilient one, that girl.

Feeling happier now in spite of the interrogation that was certain to occur the moment they arrived home, Blaine turned to his menu. Kurt leaned close, whispered, "get whatever you like, baby," and Blaine's body thrilled at the tingle that shot through him at the simple sensation of his Dom's breath tickling his skin.

* * *

The ride home was quiet, much to Blaine's surprise, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. Kurt fiddled with the radio, humming along, and Blaine found himself wishing He would slip up and sing. Maybe he could ask for that sometime—as a reward, or maybe even as a favor.

It was nearly dark when they got back to the house, and Blaine startled awake, not even realizing he'd drifted off. When his vision cleared Kurt was watching him fondly. "We can sleep soon, sweetheart. I know I make you get up pretty early, and we've both of us had a long day."

"Was worth it," Blaine mumbled, sighing happily when Kurt leaned over to kiss him softly.

"I'm glad," his Dom said. "Now come on. I spent a lot of money on those clothes, and we're going to put them away properly."

Once Blaine had dragged his sleepy body from the car, they did so together, hanging his new clothes carefully in a third of the closest Blaine hadn't even realized Kurt had had cleared out for him and folding the rest into a brand new chest of drawers. To his delight, Kurt had specially partitioned an entire drawer just for his bow ties. Once they were finished, Kurt picked out a pair of pajama bottoms for them both, and they climbed into bed.

"I know you're tired," Kurt told him, just as he was once again beginning to drift off to sleep. "But I'd like you to explain what was going on earlier at dinner. I have a feeling you weren't being entirely honest with me."

Blaine sucked in a breath, bracing himself for whatever was to come—most likely another punishment, and he really hoped it had been worth it. "I wasn't. Being entirely honest," he admitted.

"Okay," Kurt said, one hand gliding up and down Blaine's spine. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the touch. "Explain to me why."

"It just… it isn't a very good story, you know? And I didn't know how Santana would react if we talked about it, but I think most Dominant's wouldn't like being reminded of that, especially not so casually."

"Blaine," Kurt said, his voice tinged with only the barest hint of impatience. "Tell me what happened."

"Right," Blaine said. "Well, it's not a long story, just a… a shameful one, I guess you could say. I told you that Brittany and I were good friends from the time we got there. That's true, and that was okay, because I'm gay. But when Sam came…"

He paused, looking deliberately at a spot on the wall.

"Sam was—is—very attractive. And even though he was a few months younger than me, he was _experienced_, you know? And Brittany was too, so they just… they just hit it off. They both just have the same odd way of thinking, I guess, and they just got each other in a way I never quite figured out. I don't know when it started, but I found out about six months into my stay. They weren't really smart enough to be very careful, and they were just lucky it was me, and I tried to help them stay safer, and I told them to stop, and I—"

"Blaine," Kurt cut him off, a strong hand cupping his jaw and turning his head so that he was looking into the Dom's eyes. "Blaine, calm down, sweetie. Listen to me. It wasn't your fault."

Blaine closed his eyes, breathing deeply and focusing on Kurt's hand, the one that had stopped stroking and was now rubbing circles into his back. When he felt in control, he opened them again. "Only it kind of was," he said in a small voice. "It was my fault they got caught, Kurt."

He expected Kurt to deny it, but instead He just looked Blaine steady in the eye and asked calmly, "How was it your fault, baby?"

"They wouldn't stop, so I said I'd help them… I'd help them be safer. We memorized the schedules of the guards and Doms and figured out when it was best for them to sneak off and where. And I would kind of monitor things. I was supposed to warn them if I heard about something changing." He paused, sucking in another deep breath.

"What happened?" Kurt prompted.

"We had a break that night, the whole center, while most of the staff were taking all the subs for offer to a special showing an hour away. They only left two guards with us, and they just shut us all in the dayroom, but we got 'too rowdy' for them and so they sent us off to bed early. And that was great; they had time, like two hours left, and those two idiots weren't paying any attention so it seemed like the perfect opportunity…"

"What happened, Blaine."

Blaine took Kurt's hand, began to play with his fingers. "They came back early. I guess the bus broke down on the way, so they missed the show, but they sent another bus while that one was repaired and they all came back… and Sir came in to check on us and no one warned us, so I couldn't sneak out and warn them, and they saw that Sam's bed was empty and maybe Brittany's too and…"

"Oh sweetie," Kurt said, tugging him impossibly closer. "That doesn't sound like it was your fault at all! What did they do?"

"Well, both Brittany and Sam had lied and said they were virgins—everybody does, because you can't imagine what they do if you're not a virgin." Actually, Blaine thought, Kurt probably could imagine all too well, given his job. "But of course there was no way of lying after that. They were kicked out, both of them, the next day. Sent to the auctions."

Blaine buried his face in the crook of Kurt's arm, while Kurt rubbed up over Blaine's shoulders and neck and began to play with his curls.

"I know the auctions are terrible," Kurt said after a long span of silence. "I know, Blaine. But Brittany's alright now. Maybe Sam is too."

"But I'll never know, will I?" Blaine said, finally looking up at his Dom. His face was wet. Blaine hadn't realized he'd been crying. "They were my best friends there, Kurt. After they left it was nearly unbearable."

"I have connections. I could try to find him, maybe even help if it's bad."

With no way of tracing last names, it was a long shot, and they both knew it.

Blaine heaved a sob and sat up on his elbows, peering down at his Dom. "Thank you, Kurt. I'm sorry I wasn't honest with you."

Kurt sighed and touched his face, wiping at Blaine's tears with both thumbs. "I don't like it, and you know it's against the rules… but given the circumstances you did the right thing, Blaine. You're right: Santana probably would have been very uncomfortable having that discussed with strangers over dinner, not to mention how Brittany might have felt. Just—let me in a little, next time? Be a little more forward?"

Blaine smiled and bit back a laugh. "I can try. Sorry. I just get so nervous…"

"Such a sub," Kurt teased, rolling his eyes playfully.

"Yeah. But I'm _your _sub."

Kurt's eyes sparked with desire. "Yes, you are," He said, his hands trailing down Blaine's back to grip hard at his ass. Blaine whimpered and squirmed at the unexpected touch. "And tomorrow I'll prove it."

"Can't wait," Blaine said. But he knew he had too. Sleep first, then. That would make the time go faster. He snuggled down into Kurt's chest, eyes slipping closed, sighing in contentment as Kurt's arms wrapped back around him.

He was almost out when the kiss brushed his temple. "Neither can I, sweetheart. Neither can I."


End file.
